Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Please, you’re hurting me.” Victoria’s words hit Cillian’s ears as he reached the top of the staircase.
Alarm spiked through him, and he sprinted toward her voice, the only open door on the balcony. Who could be in the house, hurting her?
He shot through the doorway.
A man pinned Victoria against the wall.
“Get your hands off her!” Cillian lunged at the thug. Ripped him away from Victoria. Landed a punch on his face.
The blond-haired guy stumbled backward, his hand going briefly to his nose. He made a fist and rushed at Cillian.
Cillian ducked under the guy’s wide swing and grabbed his waist, lifting him backward with a grunt and thrusting him to the floor.
The guy blinked up from the ground.
Cillian bent over and lifted the bully by the front of his jacket, fury and adrenaline streaking through his veins. “Don’t you even think of roughing up a woman again. Especially that woman.” He released his hold, letting the guy drop.
His head hit the floor as he fell. He groaned.
“Cillian, stop. I’m all right.” Victoria’s hand on his arm stopped him from giving in to the desire to punch the guy again, just to be sure he got the message.
But the thug used that moment to scramble away, getting to his feet.
“Stay back.” Cillian pushed Victoria behind him as he stepped toward the man.
He dodged Cillian’s reach and sprinted for the door.
Cillian started after him.
“No!” Victoria’s call stopped him. “Cillian, don’t go.”
She could be hurt. Needed his help.
He turned toward her then, the beautiful, heartbreaking woman he’d do anything to protect.
Strands of her hair had come loose from her bun, falling to frame her gorgeous face. He stepped close to her and touched a silky clump, slipping it behind her ear. He let his knuckles brush her cheek.
She sucked in a quick breath at his touch, making his heart thud into his ribs.
“I heard you say he was hurting you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I was only trying to get him to let me go.” But her hand went to her left shoulder to rub it.
He had hurt her. If he hadn’t gotten away, Cillian would gladly pummel him some more. But Victoria needed him right now. She wouldn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. An emotion he rarely saw in her eyes colored the hazel orbs. Fear.
His throat tightened. He should’ve stayed with her in the house, not agreed to split up. “Do you know who he was? Where he came from?”
“Ryan Briscoe, Thomas’s nephew. He must have entered the house after we did. Or he was already in one of the other rooms and heard us.” She crossed her arms and rubbed her hands along the sleeves of her coat. Another sign of fright he hadn’t seen her show before.
That jerk had really scared her.
“I’m sorry.” Cillian rested his hand on her shoulder, lightly so as not to irritate any bruises there. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
She lifted her chin. “Nonsense. I suggested we split up.”
There she was. The strong, no-nonsense Victoria he loved.
“But thank you.” She moistened her lips and glanced away before returning her gaze to his. “I don’t know what he might have done if…” Her voice pinched as if she was about to cry.
Cillian’s gut twisted. He pulled her into his arms.
She allowed it, her cheek pressing against his chest as she squeezed his triceps in one hand with a death grip that revealed more than anything.
His heart cracked a little. He tucked her in closer, cinched his arms tighter, wanting her to feel safe. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She let him hold her, her grip on his arm relaxing with her whole body as she slowly melted against him.
Then, too soon, she pulled away. Her eyelashes lifted to reveal those hazel beauties, filled with something new.
Maybe, he could imagine, it was actually something old—something like the adoration and longing she used to feel for him. The affection. The love.
But no, that wasn’t it. This was deeper, something more grown-up and solid. Trust?
He wouldn’t know unless he asked or she told him. But if she was starting to trust him, to care for him again, he wouldn’t ruin it by being nosy and scaring her off.
He cleared his throat. “Do you want to leave? I can drive you home and come back for your car later.”
“No.” Her jaw tightened. “We need to find what Ryan was after, what he was afraid I might discover here.”
Seemed Ryan’s attack had backfired. Cillian smiled. That was his Victoria. “Let’s do it. I found a bunch of papers in a hidden compartment behind a bookshelf in the library.”
“Really?” She stared at him.
“Yep.”
“It seems they don’t only exist in stories after all.”
Cillian chuckled. “I guess not. I was coming to ask if you want to sift through them with me.”
Her mouth curved in a closed smile that made his pulse skitter. “I’d like nothing better.”
He stuck close to her as they went downstairs and to the library, but she was rebounding fast. Her walk and posture were as graceful and perfect as always.
They spread out the papers on the desk in the corner of the library and pored over them for what felt like an hour. Cillian never had liked paperwork or research.
“Did you see this?” Victoria lifted a sheet of paper in her hand.
Cillian stopped himself from pointing out he couldn’t possibly have seen anything in her section of papers when he’d been busy looking through his. “What is it?”
“Documents, receipts, certificates of authenticity.” Her brow furrowed adorably as she peered down at the papers she lined up in a row on the desk.
Cillian moved closer beside her and scanned the information.
Images of paintings with estimated values printed beneath them. Authenticity reports.
Wait. “This one verifies the authenticity of this painting.” He put his finger on the document. “But this report,” he pointed to the paper directly in front of her, “says the same painting is a fake?”
She shook her head. “It’s not the same one.
” She sifted through papers and pulled out another sheet.
“This documents Thomas’s donation to the museum for both of those paintings and the dates they were authenticated prior to his donation.
” She set the paper in front of Cillian, and his gaze fell on the date.
“You’re right. The authentication that says the painting is fake was done after it was donated to the museum.” He lifted his gaze, colliding with Victoria’s hazel eyes.
“Clinton Glenn substituted fake paintings for Thomas’s real ones after they were donated. And Thomas had proof.”
“Wow. Glenn’s a thief. He must’ve sold them on the black market. Or is going to when he thinks he can get away with it.”
Lines crossed Victoria’s forehead. “So then Glenn would be the one who searched Thomas’s office and knocked me down?”
“Looks that way. Though there must be a reason Ryan was so mad to find you here and his sister threatened you to stay away from the house.” Cillian rested his hands on his hips. “We should probably keep searching in case there’s something else to find.”
She checked her wristwatch. “I’m late for Max’s lunch. I need to go.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She quirked one eyebrow as she picked up her purse from the desk. “To my house?”
“I think it’s about time I meet the rest of your family.”
A smile shaped her mouth. “How can I say ‘no’ to that?”
His pulse took off at a record-breaking sprint. Maybe he was getting somewhere with Victoria Weston after all.
She was starting to let him back into her life, starting to flex and change in good ways. And, maybe, she was starting to love him again.
Victoria’s living room had never felt so tiny. She walked to the coffee table in front of the sofa and set down the tray, her cheeks warming as she felt Cillian’s gaze on her.
He sat on her small sofa, his long legs and large frame taking up an inordinate amount of space.
In reality, his mere presence, his intense observation, and the electricity that seemed to surge every time she came within a foot of him, were likely the reason her house seemed to have shrunk even smaller than its usual size.
“How do you take your coffee?” She reached for the navy blue mug she’d chosen for him and filled it with the steaming brew.
“Black, thanks.” Amusement colored his tone.
She dared a glance as she lifted the mug from the tray and handed it to him.
His fingers brushed hers on the handle.
A shock blazed up her arm.
And the same spark flickered in his eyes.
She tried to breathe through her nose as she looked down at the other mug on the tray and added a spoon of sugar. She backed away and sat in the armchair a safe distance away from him.
Poor Max sat in the corner there anyway, and she needed to comfort him with her presence. The dog stared at Cillian with his steady, piercing gaze, his ears perked and body tense.
She rested her hand on his velvety head. “It’s okay, Max.”
“He’s not the friendly type, I see.” Cillian returned the dog’s observation as he rested one ankle on his knee in Robert’s favorite relaxed pose.
“He used to be. He started to become fearful of strangers when he was six months old. I still don’t know why.”
“Does he ever warm up to new people?”
“It helps if they don’t stare at him.”
Cillian’s gaze switched to her, and he smiled. “Got it. I’ll pretend he isn’t there.”
“He can get used to some people with patience and time.”
“I can be patient.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him as she lifted the mug to her lips. “That would be the first time.”
Cillian grinned. “Maybe I’m learning. And maybe it’s worth waiting for.” The shift and suggestion in his tone said he was no longer referring only to Max.
A blush surged to her cheeks again. She took an urgent, long sip of coffee.
“Awesome dog, though. He’s huge.”
She grasped the subject change. “Thank you. I think he’s wonderful.”
“At least his size should help scare away anyone with ideas.”
“So you didn’t have to follow me home.” She gave him a teasing smile.
“I don’t know.” He met her gaze with a daring twinkle in his eyes. “My bark might be as impressive as his. I know my bite is.”